Like Seahorses
by reindeerqueen
Summary: "We're kinda like seahorses, huh?" Speirs said, a crooked smile threatening to break onto his face.- Two soldiers make an unexpected discovery. MPREG, so if you don't like it, then carry on dearies. :)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: A teeny tiny little plot bunny that wouldn't stop nibbling at my hand…it's been hopping around in my head for far too long, so I had to let it out to stretch its legs sometime, right?**

It all started with Lipton gaining a ghostly pallor in the mornings, followed by puking what little he had eaten of his breakfast into his helmet, to the disgust of his fellow comrades. Then it was eating anything and everything that came his way that was edible. And that meant _everything._ He couldn't pass by a blueberry bush without filling his mouth and staining his fingers purple. Then it was the mood swings and long hours spent alone…well, a bit longer than usual.

It was then that Speirs knew something was up.

Shit.

He didn't want to believe it.

Doc Roe had to be fucking with him.

But it all made sense.

Jesus Christ…this was his mess, and he had to go clean it up, mop and bucket in hand.

The snow was the only thing that was whispering as the pair sat in the foxhole, the tension so visible that both were surprised that the snow didn't start accumulating on top of it. Speirs shifted uncomfortably, and some snow tumbled down his neck. Damn, that was cold. He risked a glance over at the Sergeant, who kept his gaze fixed on the horizon, clutching his gun tightly. Fragile flakes gathered warily on his eyelashes, as if scared to settle there.

"We're kinda like seahorses, huh?" Speirs said, a crooked smile threatening to break onto his face. Lipton turned to look at him like he was a Kraut who had just decided to hop into his foxhole.

"_Excuse me?_" Lipton hissed, trying to find the humor in all of this.

"Well, you know, how the male carries the young." Speirs explained carefully, watching his lover's face soften. The smaller man let out a huff of laughter, his breath forming an opaque cloud in the air before dissipating.

"Yeah, I guess so." A mutual sigh of relief was shared after the tension was broken.

Speirs moved closer to Lipton, and tugged him into a warm hug, placing a gentle kiss on the top of his head. God, he loved that soft brown hair. He could run his hands through it all day. Speirs splayed a large hand over Lip's belly, knowing that a tiny life was set into motion.

"You're gonna get so huge. It'll be adorable." Speirs purred.

Lipton nuzzled into Speirs' shoulder, murmuring, "Don't make me shoot you."

Both soldiers giggled.


	2. Up a Tree

**A/N: Aww it's literally Mama Lip!**

"Lip, are you planning on coming down anytime soon?"

No answer.

"Don't make me come up there."

Silence.

"Alright, I'm gonna count to three, and I'd better see your ass."

Not even a rustle.

"Fine. Ready or not." Speirs huffed.

The captain gripped the first rough branch, and memories of climbing trees in his childhood flooded his mind. The exhilaration, the anticipation of the view at the top, the feeling of being king of the entire world, all swept through him. His feet shuffled away after his hands, making the leaves tremble ever so slightly. When Speirs looked up, he saw Lipton sitting among the branches, one leg dangling off the edge of a thick limb, staring at the setting sun like he wanted desperately for it to come back, like it was the last time he was going to see it. It was like sadness and hope at the same time. Bittersweet.

Speirs struggled to sit on a branch opposite Lipton, almost falling in the process. Blushing, he righted himself and looked over at his comrade. He seemed to either be ignoring him or in a trance.

"Honey, what are you doing up here?" Speirs asked him; where it was safe to call each other those sweet little names, where the tree would never tell their secrets.

"Watching."

"You sure have a thing for trees, don't you?" Speirs said, reaching up to fiddle with some leaves, so brittle that they crumbled in his fingers. He watched the bits fall, down, down, to blend with the forest floor. Sad, in a way. They should have fallen as leaves. He felt a flash of anger at his actions. It was strange how war makes you so aware of your emotions. You feel things in ways that you never have before. Back home, Speirs would have enjoyed the crunching of the leaves between his fingertips; it would have been a satisfying feeling. Those leaves may have been long dead, but you should respect the dead. Not crumble them into dust. God, he was really going crazy. A rush of wind brought him back to reality. He remembered what he was going to say.

"I mean, like that time you were up in that tree against a German front…I heard about that."

He saw Lipton smile, but he continued to stare out across the battle-torn landscape. Speirs shifted to see if there was something specific that the other man was staring so intently at, but there was nothing. Only the day's end.

"Yeah." Lipton rasped, his voice sounding chalky and dusty. Like he hadn't spoken for years.

Speirs glanced down at Lip's belly. A noticeable bump had formed. It was ironic how his uniform, a symbol of violence and unrest, was covering something so innocent.

Slowly, very slowly, the captain reached over to try to lay a hand on Lip's stomach. Lipton saw what he was trying to do, and just let it happen. He even scooted closer, turning his body slightly. Speirs' hand gently settled, and he huffed in amazement, smiling. Carwood leaned back against the wide tree trunk, and turned to gaze out at the now approaching night. He allowed himself a small grin. High up above the war, the bombs, the bullets, they had their own world. For only a moment. That was all they needed. The three of them.


	3. Cath Rugadh (Battle Born)

**A/N: The title of this chapter is translated to "battle born" in Gaelic, the native language of Ireland. Forgive me for taking so long to update, but I had this chapter written on several docs and had been unable to find the time to piece it together until now. Tsk-tsk so disorganized.**

The months passed, and the weather was actually starting to show signs of warmth. Lipton was now heavily pregnant; he was tired a lot of the time, and had frequent bouts of dizziness and headaches. Not to mention his swelling belly. He felt like a whale. A bloated, obese whale that had eaten too much krill.

Speirs watched him as he slowly settled onto a fallen tree trunk, his hand cradling the small of his back. It pained him to do the simplest things of daily life. This meant that marching from one place to another killed him. The baby was pushing up on his diaphragm, making it harder to breathe. He needed to stop and rest every other minute it seemed. The captain noticed that Lipton's arms and legs were trembling, and he rushed to sit beside him.

"Baby, you're shaking…are you okay?" Speirs asked him in a low voice.

"Mm—I'll—be fine. Just help me up, kay?" Lipton told him. He was such a trooper.

Speirs tightly gripped his hand and lifted the heavy weight upwards, careful not to be too fast. Lipton nodded and supported his belly with one hand while the pair continued onward.

BOB ~~ BOB ~~ BOB

They were in the heat of it. There were bullets flying at them from every direction, and Speirs desperately wished that Lipton was anywhere but there. Combat was no place for someone in his condition. He glanced across at Lipton, who was currently taking cover across the cobbled street in the doorway of a bombed-out house. He could see that the other was struggling to stay on his swollen feet, but he just kept on standing. Suddenly, he saw Lipton gasp and clutch at his enormous belly. Speirs went rigid with fear, wondering what was wrong. Was their child on its way? He needed to get to him…but they were taking so much fire. He could only watch as Lipton doubled over and fell to his knees, his face twisted with pain. His gun clattered to the ground next to him. Speirs saw him cry out. It was then that Lipton looked over at Speirs, pleading for help. But they both knew that he wouldn't be able to get to him without getting shot, despite his heroic run at Bastogne. Lipton visibly tensed, screaming now from the agony. One of his hands came in front of him to support his body, the other still holding his belly.

Speirs took a deep breath.

"MEDIC!" He screamed.

BOB ~~ BOB ~~ BOB

"Easy, easy, Lip. Just breathe. Breathe, okay?"

"Can't—hurts—too much."

"Come on, try."

"That's it. Easy does it. In and out."

"Jesus Christ!"

"You okay?"

"Noooo god it HURTS!" Lipton choked out as the baby pressed against his pelvis.

"Shhhh. Push, baby. You can do it." Speirs urged.

Speirs settled Lipton to kneel on the ground, trying to calm him down and letting him squeeze his hand as hard as he wanted. The Sergeant was panting heavily and supporting his belly with one hand. Speirs actually saw him crying. It must have hurt like hell.

"Okay, don't strain." Roe told Lipton.

"Doc it hurts so much." Lipton gasped.

"I know. Just try to relax."

Both Speirs and Roe winced in sympathy when a visible contraction rippled across his belly, making Lip groan loudly.

"_I'm sorry._"

"Why the hell are you apologi—IZING?!" Lipton ground out as a spike of pain drove through him.

"If we hadn't—I hadn't—just—I'm sorry." Speirs said quietly.

"I'm as much to blame." Lipton admitted.

Roe was looking at them oddly. Speirs glared at him and he quickly turned away to resume brushing off the old mattress they had found inside the house. It wasn't the cleanest thing in the world, but it was better than the hard floor.

Lipton had been in labor for more than three hours, and since then the violent gunfire had ceased. Speirs had radioed in to say that they weren't dead, but that they might be a little while. It broke Ron's heart to see how much pain the other was in, and he couldn't do a thing about it. The progress was slow going and was taking a great toll on his body. Roe had told him to try walking around with Lipton to try to speed things up. But as soon as he had taken a few steps, Lip had sunk to his knees again with a pitiful cry. They decided that the best option was to just keep him kneeling.

"Damn it, it HURTS!" Lipton screamed, tears spilling down his flushed cheeks.

"Ah!" Lipton gasped, and once again his face contorted in pain.

"Sshh. You're doing fine, baby. Keep going. You can do it, come on." Speirs cooed, brushing Lipton's sweaty hair off his forehead.

"Oooh lord." Lipton moaned, his eyes opening for the first time in a while, and they were wide with agony.

The smaller man was trembling in Speirs' arms, and his breathing was deep and labored. Speirs cooed encouragements as he brushed the sweaty hair off of Carwood's forehead. Lip tried inhaling through his nose to slow his breathing down, but only managed to look even more frightened.

A light, wary knock at the door had both men turning quickly to see who it was.

"Come in." Lipton rasped.

A doe-eyed Luz shuffled in, helmet in hand. He took in the scene before him: Speirs, sending out a protective vibe as he kneeled next to Lipton, and Lipton looking exhausted and sweaty as hell. _What a couple,_ Luz thought affectionately.

"Luz? Why in the hell are you here?" Speirs asked, more surprised than angry.

"I—I just wanted to see how you were doin'. I went to go find ya." Luz told them, bowing his head.

"It's alright, I ain't gonna bite ya." Lipton assured him with a weak smile, beckoning for him to come away from the safety of the doorway. Luz complied.

"Um…I was wonderin'…if it ain't too weird…nah, never mind." Luz brushed away the thought.

"No, no, come on kid, spill it."

"Well…c—could I maybe…feel it?" Luz mumbled, his eyes flicking to Lipton's swollen belly.

"Go ahead, kid." Lipton said. Luz reached out tentatively with a war-scarred hand, hovering just above the skin before settling as softly as a butterfly's wings. He felt a small kick beneath his splayed fingers.

"Jesus…amazing, that is." Luz commented quietly, and Lipton just smiled.

"Yeah, the little guy wants out." Lipton laughed, but it ended in a huff of breath, and he winced.

"I should get going…" Luz said hurriedly as he broke out of his trance, wishing them luck as he dashed away, trading places with Doc Roe.

Lipton couldn't hold in the next blood-curdling scream when a wave of pain radiated through his worn-out body.

"Lip! Hold on, it's almost over." Speirs hushed him. Roe gave him a look though that told him it was most definitely not almost over.

"Can't you give him something?"

"I'm trying to save the morphine for combat." Roe said apologetically.

"_Goddamnit._" Speirs hissed under his breath.

"Okay, you gotta push." Roe suddenly said.

Lipton pushed. A long moan escaped his mouth.

"Again. Come on soldier, is that the best you got?" Speirs told him.

"N-No sir."

"Then try harder!"

"Yessir!" Lipton shouted.

BOB ~~ BOB ~~ BOB

About an hour later, Lipton held a tiny, squirming bundle of life in the crook of his arm. Their little boy had deep brown eyes, just like his parents, as well as a shock of mocha hair, almost matching his eyes.

"What are we gonna name him?" Speirs asked Lipton. He thought for a second, smiling.

"Àinle."

"Huh?"

"It's a Gaelic name that means 'warrior'. I like it." Lipton said, giggling as their son gripped his finger forcefully with a hand that was dwarfed by his father's. He was surprised at how much strength the smaller being held. The baby proceeded to try to pull the digit to his mouth without much success.

Speirs turned the name over a few times in his head and said it out loud.

"You know what, I like it too. The battle born son of two warriors."

Lipton chuckled softly, glad the ordeal was over.

"I love our family."

"Me too."

**A/N: Okay sorry I couldn't help but put in a mushy ending. I'm hopeless. Anyways, the baby's name is pronounced "AN-l'yeh". I just felt like throwing something Irish in there. I kind of dragged this chapter out, but I had fun writing it, so sorry not sorry. **


End file.
